You're sitting in the office of Inch, a street doc of your acquaintance, working on your second glass of whiskey. Inch has gone into the other room to check on his patient, the hacker Zero, who took a bullet earlier. It looked bad, but the doc claims he'll pull through.

This morning you rescued Zero from some Triads. When he wakes up, you'll talk to him about it. But you get the feeling they were actually after you.

You raise your arm to take another drink and wince as your ribs complain. You took three bullets there earlier, and though your vest stopped them, you're definitely going to feel it for a few days.

This is after last night you killed a dozen gangsters, stole a helicopter, and shot down the police pursuit chopper. It was quite a night. You wonder if there's anything on the news about it.

Inch has an old TV on a filing cabinet. You switch it on and see some large-eyed cartoon superheroes posing.

"And now back to Zaltron, Lords of the Universe!"

"With the magic of this Supercrystal, my homeworld will be saved! But wait - oh, no! Help!"

"Hah hah, fools! Now I possess the Supercrystal AND the princess!"

"Eek! Save me, Hiro!"

"Princess! NOOOOOOOO!!"

The theme song begins. Jesus. This is what the kids are watching these days? You change the channel.

"SPIN! OR! DIEEE!!!" chants the crowd.
The charming host is on camera with his face-lifted smile. "Okay, Brittanny! Time to spin the wheel. OR DIE!!!" he screams. The contestant shrinks back in fear.

You think you've heard of this show before. It used to be called "Spin or Don't" but no-one was watching. You change channels again.

Finally, the news.

"-scandal surrounding electronics and biotech giant, Horizon Technologies. Chairman and CEO of Horizon Tech, Kevin Lock, held a press conference yesterday addressing these concerns. "These rumors are completely unfounded. Horizon Tech is dedicated to the future of America, and to the world." Despite these persistant scandals, the company's stock price continues to climb. More information as this story develops.

"In local news, last night a team of police responded to a shooting at the docks in South Harbor. Upon investigation, the warehouses were found to contain shipments of ethylproxine, a chemical known to be used in manufacture of the new drug scourge "Zeta" or "Z". This dangerous substance, said to cause addiction, hallucinations, and disturbing episodes of violence, and its users, "Z-Heads" are becoming a major problem in certain neighborhoods of the city. Hopefully, discovery of this stash will put a dent in the drug's supply."

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"Coming up next: is this the cutest kitten in the world? Stay tuned to QST-4 News to find out."

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>>852701
>QST-4 News
I'm pretty sure this is what the anchor looks like.

Okay. So they didn't mention the body count, or the massive property destruction, or a crashed police helicopter. They didn't show a witness sketch of you. They just summed it up with "a shooting at the docks." Mostly they talked about this drug, Z. That chemical must have been what all those guys were moving around at the docks. You didn't exactly get a chance to snoop around in the crates. Too busy killing people.

Alex is still missing. The news didn't mention anything about a suspect, dead or alive. No news is good news, maybe.

It's late afternoon. You have a meeting with Nick at 8 o'clock. He'll probably show up, since you dangled the carrot in front of him of a cut of a million dollars. What you plan to do to him if he does show up? You're still making up your mind. He's definitely a sneaker. But he might be a useful sneaker.

You have a few hours until then, so you ...

>Get dinner someplace. Your stomach is growling.
>Go see Edna the cat lady for ammo and info.
>Contact the Russian boss. Maybe he doesn't know what his kid's been up to.
>Search for Alex. She's out there, somewhere.
>Rest and let your wounds recover. Watch some more TV.
>Something else.

>>852734
>Search for Alex. She's out there, somewhere.
>Contact the Russian boss. Maybe he doesn't know what his kid's been up to.

>>852734
>>Rest and let your wounds recover. Watch some more TV.
I want to wait on the russian boss thing until we get our reward for the job.

>>852734
>>Search for Alex. She's out there, somewhere.

>>852747
>>852751

Alex is out there, somewhere. Last you heard from her she was on the run from the cops, then her radio broke. She's been a useful ally so far, and maybe something more than that. You can't sit around here without knowing what happened.

Ken, the older Yakuza fellow (or rather who claims to not actually be a Yakuza but just drive for them) is the one who dropped Alex off at her sniping position. He told you last night where it was: a certain utility stairway on an elevated rail line.

>Go to the rail line, investigate the scene.
>Phone Ken for help.
>Find someone who knows more than you and ask them. If you have to, ask them hard.
>Something else.

>>852851
>Phone Ken for help.
Only idiots return to the scene of the crime. We may not be known for our intelligence, but we're certainly not that stupid.

>>852851
>Phone Ken for help.

Ken gave you a business card for an auto shop last night, with a phone number written in pen on the back. "You can reach me there," he said. "Call me if you need a driver, or some car repairs. Or just some advice from an old man."

You pick up Inch's phone and dial in the number, hoping Ken was serious about that last part.

It's picked up after a few rings. "もしもし?"

"Hey, is that Ken? It's Johnny."

"Ah! Johnny my boy. I hoped to hear from you, although I didn't expect it to be quite so soon. Are you well? How are you faring after last night's adventure?"

>Fine. Just fine.
>Tell him about the shootout this morning.

>>852954
>>Tell him about the shootout this morning.

>>852954
Well, learned about our friends from last night after they asked one of my pals about me. Thankfully he's doing okay now. Them... not so much.

>>852954
>Tell him about the shootout this morning.
"Apart from some bulletproof vest bruises and mortally-wounded best friend, I'm doing alright."

>>852999
>mortally-wounded best friend

Good news, anon. He wasn't mortally wounded. He'll probably be back up and reading his Mongolian picture books by this time tomorrow.

>>853026
>he wasn't mortally wounded
He was shot in the chest. He would have died if we didn't get him to a doctor.

I'm pretty sure that classifies as a mortal wound.

>>853035
>mortal wound

AKTCHUALLI...

Nah, the idea behind a mortal wound is that the guy dies pretty quick after receiving it, no matter how soon you get him treatment. Zero had some time for treating his wound, since we chose to leave with him to see Dr. Itch.

"Apart from some bruises and a wounded friend, I'm doing alright."

"Eeeh? Already new adventures, Johnny?"

"Went to see him to try to get info. Some other guys were already there, trying to get info from him about me. Triads, maybe connected to the dock gang I shot up last night. They were asking him the hard way. I wasn't happy about that. Killed 'em or chased 'em off, but my pal took a bullet in the chaos."

"My goodness. Is he all right?"

"Thankfully he's doing okay now. He'll probably be back up and reading his Mongolian picture books by this time tomorrow. Them... not so much.

"Anyway, listen, I'm worried about Alex. Have you guys heard anything about her?"

"Nothing yet, I'm afraid. The police had that area locked down all night, and most of today. She is a resourceful woman, Johnny. I'm sure she is fine."

"I know. But I don't like that she's on her own out there. Something's closing in around us, Ken, trying to find us. I don't want her to get caught alone when it does. I'd go look myself, but I can't go back to the crime scene. Is there anything you can do, any ideas you have?"

Silence for a few moments. Then: "I have a few ideas. There are some people I can talk to. We will ask some questions, make some investigations. You are meeting Catherine tonight for your pay, yes? I will meet you there, and let you know anything I find."

"All right. Thanks, Ken."

"Just try not to shoot anyone else until then. 失礼します." He hangs up.

Uh, Boss? Did you forget to put in the choices?

>>853196
Just had to take a short IRL break so I thought I'd post what I had. Second part soon.

>>853079
>>853196
>the idea behind a mortal wound is that the guy dies pretty quick after receiving it
JFK lived for three days after his wound was pronounced mortal.

It's time to get moving.

Inch comes back into his office, grumbling something about leeches. You say to him, "Inch, I gotta go. Lots to do. How long can you look after the kid?"

The doc scratches his salt-and-pepper beard. "He won't be moving around much until tomorrow. He can stay here until then. But this ain't a damn hotel."

"All right, I get it. I'll see if I can get back here tomorrow, help him out. How much do I owe you?"

Inch starts to pour himself another glass. "For this one? Nothing. Call it a first-time-customer discount for the kid. Besides," he says, and pauses to take a drink. "I still owe you from back then. Get out there and do what you have to do."

You leave Inch's place and hop onto a eastbound bus, approaching the high rises of Castle Green. There you'll find the fancy resturant where you encountered Nick earlier, and arranged to meet him today.

Nick may have betrayed you. He conveniently side-stepped the ambush that killed Boris and put you and Alex on the run. He definitely can't be trusted. But he might still be useful.

If he's there, what do you want from him?

>Information.
>Try to get him on your side.
>Tell him to get out of town.
>Kick his ass.
>Something else.

>>853215
If that's the case, Zero's wound wasn't mortal, because he's now currently alive.

In other news, this argument is silly and pointless, and we both look really dumb for continuing it.

>>853243
>Information.

>>853243
>Information.
>Try to get him on your side.

At least, enough so that we can get him to tell the Russian mob boss what Ivan told him to do after we find Alex and figure out the rest of the story. If Alex winds up face down in a sewer outlet, he's our last witness.

That said, he can go hide for a bit after we finish talking to him. Don't want him to sneak out of another firefight without warning.

>>853243
By the way, what's the name of the Russian's mob boss, again? Ivan's pretty easy, but his dad keeps skipping my mind...

>>853266
Changing my vote to this. If the situation gets the better of Alex we still have a chance at getting out of this alive with a little snake-handling routine, assuming we don't get bit.

>>853285
Probably because I didn't get around to naming him yet. I'll call him Vlad.

You arrive at the upscale resturant and head inside.

The maitre d' hustles over, takes one look at your outfit, and his expression sours. Oh yeah, that's right. You're still wearing your beat-up jacket and jeans. You've got to get around to a wardrobe upgrade at some point if you keep hob-nobbing in this rich folk neighborhood.

"I'm afraid, sir," he says stiffly. "That at this establishment-"

>Be persuasive.
>Bribe him.
>"Get out of my way."

>>853321
-is going to serve me to the best of it's abilities, lest it receive a bad review." Subtly show meat cleaver and utility knife, along with wad of cash.

>>853321
>>853357
I was gonna suggest having the guy fetch Nick and we both happily go somewhere where this stuffy prick isn't, but I think Imma back this instead.

>>853386
Man, I'm on a roll with my write-in suggestions.

>>853400
Works for me bruh. Writing.

"-is going to serve me to the best of its abilities, or you might get a bad review in the paper."

You pull open your coat to show off your roll of cash. If it happens that he also catches a glimpse of your knife and cleaver, you can hardly help that, can you?

"Errrrrr yes. Yes, I see. Shall I show you to a table then, sir?"

"I'm meeting someone. Just make sure I get a good drink and I'll be happy."

You scope out the place. Men and women in expensive outfits and suits with huge shoulder pads. The clink of glasses and silverware, the hush of quiet conversation. A bunch of fancy fussbudgets who've never taken a punch or scraped by for a dime in their lives. You try to ignore them and focus on what you're looking for.

There, at a table in the back. Nick is puffing away on a cigarette, looking jumpy. You cross the restaurant and slide in at the chair opposite.
"Hello, Nick." you say. "Wasn't sure if I was going to see you here."

He laughs nervously. "Well, you know. Anything to help out a pal, right? So, uh." His eyes dart back and forth. "You said something about a cut, right?"

"Yeah, I did. We'll get to that. Before I give you anything, though, I need something from you. I need information. What do you know about ...

>The Triads
>The Russians
>A nightclub owner named Catherine
>Those crooked cops who shot at us
>Something else

>>853420
Damn, all pertinent information...

>Those crooked cops who shot at us

>>853420
>Those crooked cops who shot at us
Other than the time and place that they planned on executing us, that is.

>>853420
>The Russians
>Those crooked cops who shot at us

Also, see about ordering a steak. Remember, if the menu's in French, order a medium well instead of medium. The French like them rare.

>>853445
"I guess I'll try a 'hamburg steak', whatever that is."

"... those crooked cops who shot at us. Who are they? What's their game?"

"Crooked cops, huh? That's really who killed Boris at the motel? Jesus Christ." He sucks on his cigarette, thinking about it.

Before he can say anything, a waitress arrives. "I'll guess try a "hamburg steak"," you tell her. If it's like hamburger and steak, it must be good.

You watch her leave, then turn back to Nick. "You were saying?"

Nick stubs out his cigarette. "Okay, look. I don't know anything for sure. But I heard a rumor. It's been going around. Something about this squad of cops that works off the books. They call themselves something like ... what was it ... Black something. Black Spear? Something like that. They work for anyone as long as the money's good. Take all kinds of dirty jobs and get away with it. Supposedly they've got someone high up in the force covering their asses. Nothing ever sticks to them. "

Damn. "What's the connection with the Russians?"

"I don't know. Guess Ivan must have hired them to do his dirty work. Or whoever hired him."

"What about the Russians now? What's going on with them? Does Vlad know his son is going behind his back?"

"As far as I know, everything's quiet there. Either he doesn't know, or they're both in on it."

You grunt. "That doesn't make any sense, though. Why he hire us, and then whack us? Unless ..."

"I don't know, Johnny. This town is going upside-down. Cops become crooks, crooks become legit businessmen. Coke and Z on the streets. The gangs all want a piece. Some kind of storm is coming. I don't want to be anywhere near it."

Your hamburg steak arrives. It looks just like you hoped. You cut a piece and take a bite. Perfect. At least something is going right.

While you eat, you think about what to do with this guy.

You tell him, "You should ..."

>"Stay somewhere I can get ahold of you."
>"Lay low for a while."
>"Get out of town."
>"Come with me to a meeting tonight. You might be useful."

>>853600
>"Come with me to a meeting tonight. You might be useful."
"You didn't think I was just gonna hand you a wad of cash to reward you for slipping out of the room to let me pull bullets out of my buttcheeks, did you? Your cut's there, but by god you're gonna earn it before you get it."

>>853600
>>"Get out of town."

Shit is going tit's up man, get out while you can. I got unfinished business.

>>853600
>>"Come with me to a meeting tonight. You might be useful."

"Keep in mind, the entire reason I'm trusting you despite what happened is because a wise old man told me I should. You wouldn't want to disappoint him, would you?"

>>853635
>saving Nick's ass
He wouldn't do the same for us. He didn't do the same for us when he had the chance.

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>>853666
Oh yeah, almost forgot...

I, SATAN, WOULD SUGGEST GIVING THE PITIFUL FOOL WHO SERVED US A GOOD TIP. NOT ONLY DOES THIS GIVE HIM A GOOD IMPRESSION OF US, ALLOWING US TO COME BACK AGAIN, BUT IT WILL ACT AS INSURANCE AGAINST ANY POSSIBLE INTERLOPERS WHO MAY BE FOLLOWING US. DO AS I SAY, AND WE SHALL DESTROY THOSE WHO STAND AGAINST US!

>>853692
Thanks, Satan!

>>853669
Good point, I guess if we bring him with us at the very least we can use him as a shield, I'll change my vote to bring him with us.

>>853696
YOU'RE WELCOME, MORTAL.

BY THE WAY, WE'VE BEEN CONSIDERING YOU FOR A MANAGEMENT POSITION...

>>853736
Do I need to sell my soul? I think robots are born without those. Could it be someone else's soul?

"... come with me to a meeting tonight. I have the feeling you might be useful."

"What? Useful? Did you hear anything I just said, Johnny? Some serious shit is going to go down, and I plan on being far, far away from it all."

"You didn't think I was just gonna hand you a wad of cash to reward you for slipping out of the room to let me pull bullets out of my buttcheeks, did you?" You stand up and toss a couple twenties on the table. Then you add a couple more. Always good to cover your bases. You never know when a good tip will help the staff conveniently forget your description. "Your cut's there, but by god you're gonna earn it before you get it. Now pay your half of the bill, and follow me."

Nick has to search his pockets, eventually places a rumbled twenty and some change on the table, and follows you out of the restaurant, grumbling. "-can't believe I gotta this fuckin what the fuck-"

The two of you take the bus north through Central. Nick talks a lot when he's nervous. "-a thousand on red so when it came up red I said "Let it ride!" and the blonde tuns to me and she says-"

"Nick, take a fucking breath. It's going to be fine. We're just going to go talk to a woman I know. I'm gonna get paid for a job, and talk about another job."

You look out the bus window, watching the lights turn on as night settles on the city. "It sounds like a big thing actually, this new job. Maybe something you could be useful for. Start earning your cut of the money."

He takes a deep breath, lets it out. "Okay, Johnny. Okay. What do you want me to do?"

>Just stay quiet and let me do the talking.
>Maybe your snake tongue will come in handy. You can help me negotiate.
>Take this, just in case. (Give him a weapon)

>>853600
>>"Lay low for a while."
Let's not involve him just yet, but let's keep him within arms reach if we need a sneak

>>853766
>>Maybe your snake tongue will come in handy. You can help me negotiate.

"Part of your fee comes from what I earn from this, or possibly we, if you feel up for more work. You can even get a choice of green, blow, or hardware."

>>853766
>Maybe your snake tongue will come in handy. You can help me negotiate.

"Maybe your snake tongue will come in handy. You can help me negotiate."

"Sure, I- hey, wait a minute ..."

The bus arrives at your stop, and you get off and start walking through Central. It's a crazy neighborhood, right in the heart of the city. Government offices and high-end stores, cathouses and crack dens, dive bars and elite clubs. Every culture and income bracket in North and South America collides here.
Following the directions Catherine gave you, you head down a back street, into a certain unnamed alley, and turn right.

You find a pair of large double doors. Above them is a sign in block letters in blood-red neon: "RED", underneath a single Japanese character: 赤

There are three Asian men in black clothes standing outside the door. The red neon light highlights their dark hair from behind. They don't look like your typical bouncers. Smaller. But more dangerous.

One of them sees you approach. "Private party, man." He flicks his cigarete in your direction. "Get lost."

"I'm supposed to meet-"

"I said, get lost. Are you deaf, or just ugly?" He steps forward. One of the others reaches in his coat, like he's putting his hand on a gun.

>Try to talk your way through it.
>Find another way in.
>Kick their asses.
>Shoot them.

>>853874
I AM the party, you idiot. Just ask Ryuji or Ken.

>>853874
>Try to talk your way through it.
"I'm the guy that the private party is for, you fucking jackhole. Catherine sent me."

The man turns back to the other two, and they exchange a few sentences in what you think is Japanese. You recognize Catherine's name.

Then they start to pull their guns.

>Hands up
>Kick their shit in

>>853905
>Kick their shit in
Fuck me. There's no way we could effectively just try booking in to get in another way is there

>>853905
>Kick their shit in
We've stared down the barrels of too many fucking guns this week. I don't care if these guys are Catherine's men or not.

>>853905
>Kick their shit in

It's been a long day, fellas. Forgive me for being on edge.

Rolled 1 (1d10)

Rolling to kick their shit in.

>>853918
...Jesus Christ, man.

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>>853918
The quest was fun while it lasted, fellas.

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>>853918
>>853925

Fuck this. You don't care who they work for, you've stared down the barrels of too many fucking guns this week.

Before the closest guard can pull his gun free, you step forward and slam him in the face with your left fist. He recoils in pain, and you follow up with a big boot to his crotch. He falls down, vomiting.

The second guard has his pistol out of his coat and is aiming with both hands, but you grab him by the wrists, twist his gun down, and force the trigger, blasting him with his own gun in the thigh. Blood from his artery splatters on your hands.

You wrestle the gun free and aim at the third guy, but he's got a bead on you. You both fire several times, but your aim is in haste and you miss.

One of his, though, feels like a freight train slamming into your left arm. It knocks you down to one knee.

The pain is a lance as hot as the sun, but you struggle to aim the gun with just your right arm--

Another gunshot rings out. You brace for the pain, eyes closing. But nothing happens.

You open your eyes slowly. The third guy is dead on the ground in front of you, a hole in his forehead.

You look over to see Nick, holding the gun dropped by the first guard. "I - I got him! I got the fucker. Haha! Fuck that guy! Yesss!"

You groan. "Nice work, pal. Ffffuuuck me-" You try to move your left arm. It moves, it just feels like someone is driving a red-hot poker into your shoulder. Must have caught the outside. You look at the blood starting to spread out on your sleeve.

Okay. Now you're really going to need a new jacket.

You look at the door. There are couple bullet holes in it now. They probably heard that inside.

>Kick in the door.
>Be careful, open it from cover.
>Just get the hell out of here.

>>853959
>Kick in the door.
Well, at least we can pull off Marv's "That's a damn fine coat you're wearing" line.

File: sex dungeon.jpg (124 KB, 925x609)

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Soundtrack: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_7uDB0mOwpA

You kick in the doors and stride in.

Inside the club is ...

Inside the club is a nightmare.

The first thing you notice is that the club is some kind of fucking sex dungeon. You see people of all body types, muscular, obese, rail-thin, dressed in gimp suits and bondage gear, with whips, riding crops, chains--

-- that's mostly the center of the room, while the outside holds couches and chairs where rich people in suits and dresses are looking on and sharing drinks--

--all of this is soaked in shifting red and pink lights, backed by pulsing music--

--and spread out through the room are five Asian guys, dressed in dark clothes like the assholes at the door. They shout at each other, then at you, raising pistols.

>Dive for cover, pull out your shotgun
>Charge into the room, firing your magnum
>Something else

>>853959
>Kick in the door.
The fuck you were trying to reach is not being given. Please check your number and dial again.

>>854007
>Dive for cover, pull out your shotgun.
Crowd control? Crowd control.

>>854007
>Dive for cover, pull out your shotgun

Well, so much for a job from Catherine.

>>854026
This might be the job.

>>854038
Oh, goddamn it. Of course.

We don't know if they were Chinese or Japanese. All we know is that they're Asian. We just assumed they were Yakuza from the sign, and we don't know how to read either language, so it could be either one.

Clever, Boss. Real clever.

Search them for cleavers or knives when we're done for proof.

>>854060
Hell, we don't even know if there's another Yakuza clan here.

Rolled 1 (1d10)

Rolling to dive for cover and use the shotgun.

>>854060
If this is the job, I'm not happy about it.

We were told we were arriving for a meeting; not a slaughter. I'm not cool with the idea of being used like that.

>>854078
>1 again
>disregard that, i suck cocks

One of you guys roll instead.

>>854078
...Can we start rolling again, now?

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Rolled 10 (1d10)

>>854078
I wonder how many bullets we can catch toni-

>>854089
Oh.

>>854096
>>854097
Yes.

>>854089
I mean, Jesus CHRIST, man.

What did you do to piss off the RNG? Fuck it's wife? Kill it's dog?

Vote for Jill Stein??

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This way if you fail it's not my responsibility.

The room has a pair of painted barriers that circle out to either side. You dive for cover behind the right one, can see to one side Nick diving behind the other.

It takes you a moment to wrestle the shotgun out of your coat, ignoring the pain from your left arm. Firing this son of a bitch with just the right is going to be difficult. You saw that guy do it in that movie, but this isn't a fucking movie. After a few seconds, you figure out a way to prop it up on the barrier - concrete, thankfully, from the sound of bullets hitting the other side - poke your head out to aim, and squeeze the trigger without breaking your arm. One of the goons has his face blown off. You swivel the shotgun, using it like some kind of turret, and down a second goon.

One of the Asian guys is shouting at the gimps, waving his gun. He points towards you. Oh, man, you can't be serious-

They are. A dozen men (?) and women (??) in bondage gear are rushing your position with whips and chains, an onslaught of black leather and spikes and exposed flesh.

Nick is firing his pistol. "What the fuck I can't even what is this fuuuuuck-" One of the gimps goes down, then another.

Your head whirls. Did Catherine betray you? Was this the job? Are these Triads or Yakuza? No time to think, or try to comprehend this situation, you've got S&M freaks to kill. The shotgun bucks in your hand, the stock slamming into your shoulder repeatedly. Blood sprays like a fountain. Flesh disintegrates.

One of them makes it to you. He swings some kind of huge spiked club at your head. You duck and kick him in the shins, then as he stumbles, again in the stomach, knocking him onto his back. You swing around the shotgun and pull the trigger, turning his face into alphabet soup.

One more, one of the biggest guys you've ever seen, practically spherical. You grunt in pain as you raise the shotgun with just your right arm. Time to do it like the movies, you think, and pull the trigger.

Click.

The fat man laughs behind his mask, closes in.

"Oh, for fuck's sake-" you drop the shotgun, whip out your magnum, and blast the fat guy in the forehead. He falls over backwards, the ground shaking slightly.

You look around. The gimps are dead or gone. The rich people, some of them are fleeing around you to the door behind you; some of them are staring, or even cheering you on, like this was part of the show.

You spot one of the Asian guys in the back, yanking open a back door, hustling down a set of stairs.

>Go after him
>Something else first

>>854153
Grab a chain and throw it at him. Hopefully it'll tangle his legs for us so we can grab him.

>>854153
This sounds good
>>854165

>>854165
Oh yeah, spiked club.

Snag that.

>>854153
>Something else first.
>Give the remaining audience the fingerguns and a wink.
>Now grab a chain, fling it at Ping Pong, and let's watch what happens.

>>854169
You only have one useable arm right now. Want to hold the magnum or the club?

>>854187
Club. Don't need to waste ammo just yet.

>>854153
>>Go after him

You grab one of the bondage chains and throw it at the retreating guard. Unfortunately the chain is a little ... slippery, and you miss. The guard disappears down the back stairs.

"Blech," you say, wiping your hand off.

You check out the spiked club. It doesn't seem to have any weird substances on it, just spikes. This will do nicely. You shove the magnum back into you coat and pick up the club.

You walk out into the carnage of the club, under the still-pulsing red and pink lights. The music has cut off, leaving a bizarre silence. The remaining audience goggles at you. A few of them whistle or shout. You give them the finger-guns, and a wink.

Nick follows you. "For fuck's sake, Johnny, didn't you say we were just gonna talk to somebody?"

"Well ... yeah. That's what I thought was gonna happen. Funny how that works."

The door to the back stairs is standing open. From downstairs you can hear muffled sounds. Shouting. An argument. Then a woman's scream. Not just a sound, but a word. Was ...

Was that your name?

>Charge down the stairs
>Go carefully down the stairs
>Something else

>>854234
>>Charge down the stairs

Bit late for caution

>>854234
>Charge down the stairs

>>854234
>>Charge down the stairs
MAX PAYNE STYLE SLO-MO, DON'T FAIL ME NOW!

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>>854234
>Charge down the stairs
We've come this far on adrenaline, why stop now?

You charge down the stairs into some kind of basement. The regular kind, not the sex dungeon kind, just a regular basement.

Three of the dark-clothed guys are down here, arguing with each other. They turn towards the sound coming from the stairs, but before they can collect themselves you charge into the closest one and slam your spiked baton into his skull. The spikes penetrate his brain, his eyes roll back in his head.

The other two are aiming at you. You try to tug the club free, but the spikes keep it stuck in the guy's head. You abandon it and dive for cover around the nearby corner, landing on your wounded shoulder. "Ffffuuuck-"

Nick ducks his head in from the stairway, fires off a couple shots. He forces the other guys to duck down into cover themselves. Then Nick's gun starts clicking empty. "Oh, shit-" he scrambles back upstairs, dodging gunfire.

You pull your magnum out of your coat. Damn but it's getting hard to aim with the pain and the sweat and the blood loss. It takes you four bullets just to waste one guy in the neck. How are you going to reload this fucking thing with only one arm? You duck back down under the return shots from the last surviving guard. Only one shot. Got to make this count-

You hear a hissing sound, then a thud. Then the sound of something heavy, rolling along the ground. It's rolling towards you. A grenade? You peek out the corner.

It's the guy's head. His severed head is rolling towards you along the ground.

You look up to see the guy's headless body sway, stagger, collapse. And behind it ...

(Continued)

>>854289
Ryuji!

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"Ryuji!" you say with relief. "Man, am I glad to see you here."

The Yakuza wipes off his katana, sheathes it. "良し."

You stagger up to your feet, holding your wounded arm.

>Awkward hug
>Manly handshake
>Bow

>>854308
>>Manly handshake

>>854308
>>Manly handshake

>>854308
>Bow
>Manly handshake

In that order.

>>854308
>Manly handshake

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>>854308
>Manly handshake
You son of a bitch.

You step forward and hold out your hand. "You son of a bitch!" Your two right hands meet in a clasp of manliness.

Ken emerges from the shadows behind his nephew. "Good evening, Johnny."

"Ken? Jesus. What the hell is going on here? Did you find Alex?"

"No time." says Ken. "I will explain later. Quiet. Listen. Can you hear?"

You do. You can. From somewhere nearby, you can hear muffled sounds, like someone shouting into a pillow. Or a gag.

"This way," says Ken, and heads off. You aren't sure what's going on, but you follow after him.

The sounds are coming from an unmarked door. Ryuji and Ken are behind you to either side. You ready your weapon, and open the door.

(Continued)

>>854365
>heads off
Careful how you do that around Ryuji.

Catherine is in a small storage room. She has a rag tied around her mouth as a gag. Wrists tied behind her back. A tall Asian man in a dark pinstripe suit is standing behind her. He's using one hand to hold her tied wrists, the other to hold a pistol to her head.

"Here come your brave samurai now," he says to Catherine.

"お父さん?" asks Ryuji, puzzled.

Ken's eyes have narrowed dangerously. "Hello, brother. Just what is it you think you're doing here?"

"Discipline," replies the man. Ken's brother, apparently. Which would make him ... Ryuji's father. Uh-oh.

"You call this "discipline"? Once more you have gone too far."

"Not far enough! I treat her with respect, and this is how she repays me? Stealing from my allies? Scheming behind my back? Investigating Dragon's Nest? How could you treat your own father this way?" he shouts into her face. "How could you show me such disrespect?"

"Your father?" you say, incredulous. "But he's - so that means. Wow. So you four are just one big, happy family of crime and violence, huh? This soap opera stuff is real interesting, but let's focus on how you need to drop the fucking gun right now, asshole!"

"Not a chance," he says. "Unless you want this woman killed, I suggest you all lower your weapons and back away from the door slowly."

Ken shakes his head, disgusted. "You would kill your own daughter. You are not the brother I once knew."

"I do whatever it takes to make this organization strong," says the man. "Unlike you. Now MOVE!" he shouts, jamming the pistol into Catherine's temple. She whimpers in fear. Her eyes lock onto yours, pleading.

You've still got one bullet in your gun.

>Take the shot (d10 roll)
>Let them go

>>854395
Drop gun, throw cleaver.

>>854395
>>854399
This is how we negotiate.

>>854399
>>854403

Roll a d10 to negotiate.

Rolled 9 (1d10)

>>854419
Anyone else wanna negotiate?

>>854426
Where'd he learn to negotiate like that?

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>>854426

Anon, you have true potential for negotation.

>>854426
>Just got here, everything is going to shit.
>Anon breaks out near flawless East End diplomacy skills.
Thanks anon!

Do you take the shot, even though you might miss, or even hit Catherine? Do you let this asshole walk out of here, even though he might just kill her later?

Then you get a better idea.

You toss your gun on the ground, and shrug. "Okay. You win." You raise your hands like you're surrendering. Ryuji scowls, but he takes a step back.

For a moment, the Yakuza boss isn't sure if this is a trick. "Giving up so easily?" he sneers.

You shrug. Your muscles are tense, but you force yourself to relax. "Just doing the smart thing. Look, my gun's on the ground. Why don't you let her go now?"

The man laughs. "I think perhaps instead-" And you spot the moment he starts to transfer his aim from Catherine to you, with sight and reflexes honed on the streets. And you act.

In a flash, you pull the meat cleaver out of your jacket and fling it at the Yakuza boss. The cleaver flies in a graceful spinning arc, shining as it catches the light.

The boss has just enough time to look surprised before the cleaver thwacks right into the center of his forehead with a wet crunch.

He takes a few steps backwards, still with the same surprised expression. The meat cleaver is sticking out of his head. He thumps up against the wall. Then he slowly slides down into a sitting position, leaving a trail of blood on the wall.

(Continued)

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>>854491
Always happy to use what I know to help out.

Ryuji dashes forward, freeing Catherine - his sister? - from her bonds. "妹ちゃん."

Catherine coughs a few times, gets to her feet with Ryuji's assistance. "Yes. Thank you, brother. Thank all of you." She forces herself to stand without her brother's help. Even now, despite the torn clothes and run mascara, despite just being at her most vulnerable, she manages to project a kind of strength. Despite the small fact that her own father was just killed while holding a gun to her head.

She turns to to you. "Especially you, Johnny. This was not your affair. You came here at my invitation, only to get mixed up in this. And in the end, you saved my life." She bows, a little stiffly. "For this I am most grateful." She raises her head, and you catch a bit of mischief in her eye. "I'll find some way of repaying you. For now-"

"For now," interrupts Ken. "I think we should leave before the police arrive. In fact, if I'm not mistaken, they're already here."

You do in fact hear the faint sound of sirens from upstairs.

Ken heads off. "Follow me to the back door."

>"Okay, let's get moving."
>"Wait ..." (Something else)

>>854563
>>"Wait ..." (Something else)
Grab the Cleaver (I'll be damned if we don't return it to Griddleface), snag Nick, then leave.

>>854563
>Wait
Grab Nick, no way he wouldn't rat us out.

>>854563
>>854576
This.
>>854577
And this.

And also the club, of we can grab that without breaking speed.

>>854576
this

>>854576
This.

"Wait ..." You step forward and wrench the cleaver out of the Yakuza boss's face. The two siblings turn away. You guess that, despite everything, part of them still sees him as their father.

You remember something else. "Also, I need to-"

"Holy fuck," says Nick. You turn around to find him already behind you, scratching his head. "Sorry Johnny, I was trying to find a gun with bullets in. What happened down here? You make some new friends?"

"Family disagreement," you say. "We're leaving. Follow us unless you want to get nabbed."

"No arguments here," he says. "Hey, name's Nick, nicetameetcha."

"アホが," replies Ryuji.

"Yeah, great. Let me tell you pal, if it wasn't for me and my good friend Johnny here-"

Hoo boy. Maybe you should have left him tied up back on that boat.

Your group follows Ken to the back door, out into the night-shrouded city. You get in his car and join the anonymous legion of traffic, endless ranks of yellow headlights and red brakelights.

It's a little crowded inside with six people. Everyone's pretty quiet, even Nick.

You're sitting next to Catherine. She's staring out the window with a haunted look on her face.

>"You okay?"
>"You owe me for this."
>"Sorry I had to kill your father."
>"We're in this together, now."

>>854599
>>"Sorry I had to kill your father."
>"We're in this together, now."
>"You okay?"

>>854599
>"You okay?"
>"Sorry I had to kill your father."

"If it makes you guys feel better, tell me what he was like before this."

>>854599
>>854610
This seems about right.

>>854599
>No good options
Anyway
>You okay?
>Make with the apologies

>>854616
You can write in if you've got something in mind.

>>854622
I know, I'm just drawing a blank on this one.
Thanks though. Was looking forward to this today, finally got off work and back home so I might be able to participate.

>>854616
Anyway, guess I'll change from this to support something more like>>854612
>>854599

"So where are we headed, Ken?"

Ken says, "I'm taking us to the house out in the suburbs. We'll have a chance to rest, away from police attention, and plan our next move."

"Sounds good to me." You glance over at Catherine again. She looks grim. "You okay?" you ask her.

She shrugs. "I'll survive."

"I, uh ... look. I'm sorry I had to do that. To kill your father. I didn't know what else to do."

"It's all right. Part of me is angry, even though I hated him. But, under the circumstances ... you did what you had to do. And I'm alive because of it. So I'm grateful."

"If it makes you feel better, you can tell me what he was like before this?"

She shakes her head. "He was always like this. Controlling. Violent. Putting the syndicate before everything. Ryuji and I, we're the ones who changed. Ryuji still tried to follow in his footsteps. But I ... I couldn't. Not with that man." Her fists tighten, then relax. "I'm sorry, Johnny. I'm tired. We'll discuss this tomorrow."

"All right. Tomorrow." You look out the window. "We're in this together now, I guess."

In the window reflection, you see her smile. "We are."

>>854635
Sorry anon, I'm done for now, because I need to rest and figure out what happens next. Hope you enjoy reading the adventure so far, and that you can make it for next time.

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Outro: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bEPBefYxfWs

Thanks for playing Thug Quest, anons. Hope you enjoyed murdering a club of gimps, and rescuing your employer by killing her father.

I will probably resume tomorrow, sometime late afternoon/evening PST. Stay tuned to this thread or my twitter to find out. http://twitter.com/ravenkingquests

>>854679
If it's any consolation to her: I actually imagined the thrown cleaver would cut his hand off at the wrist.

>>854695
It's cool, it's been a fun ride so far.
As long as you keep QMing I'll keep checking in, schedule permitting or otherwise.
Thanks for running RK.

>>854700
I laughed the moment the gimps started rushing us, brings back memories of Saints Row. Night boss, and thanks for unning!

>>854714
I laughed at that shit, too. I got Postal 2 vibes off of that.

>>854700
Night, Bossman. See you around.

God damn it, I keep missing these. I'm gonna make the next one, I swear.

>>854700
>HM2 soundtrack
>Dust
You have my 50 Blessings

>>854714
Oh shit I remember that mission

Part 6: >>862322